Killing Kili…a Dream Deferred

I am currently admitted to the hospital in Frisco, Colorado.

When I got to the ER yesterday, the wait was short and things moved quickly. CAT scans of my abdomen happened and the surgeon came in to talk to me.

It was clear there was a serious problem in my gut, right at the juncture between the small and large intestine, near the appendix. The appendix looked enlarged, but not enough to indicate appendicitis. My white counts were high and I was running a mild fever. There appeared to be a couple of masses in the area called fecaliths (you really don’t want to know) and the entire area of my bowel was infected and inflamed. The cause of my pain, lack of appetite, and nausea was a pretty serious infection.

Then the surgeon says, “we need to do surgery, but it isn’t just your appendix. We will need to remove the infected section of bowel, which includes a section of both the small and large intestines.”

Are you serious? They are going to cut out part of my intestines? But…it’s not that bad! It doesn’t hurt at that level…not at the “removing part of your guts” level. How did this get so serious so quickly?

He told me Africa was out.

Watch me! Oh, doc you know not with whom you speak. I am the mover of mountains, the climber of mountains. I WILL climb Kilimanjaro, you just wait and see. I will beat this.

I held onto hope despite the reality of laying in a hospital bed (isn’t the first stage of grief denial?). The surgeon said he would consult again with the radiologist before pulling the trigger on surgery. He seemed convinced that he was cutting me open in the next few hours.

I was convinced this was all going to be ok, and some antibiotics would have me up and hiking in no time.

He came back an hour later and said they weren’t sure what was wrong in the area, but they suspected diverticulitis rather than appendicitis. He told me how strange and unusual it was to have it in this region. I guess almost all diverticula occur in the last section of the large intestine, the descending colon. He said they would hold off on surgery, admit me to the hospital, give me rounds of IV antibiotics every 6 hours, and monitor my progress.

If the antibiotics don’t work…then surgery. If they do work, then I would leave in a couple of days and take more oral antibiotics for a couple of weeks.

“So…if I don’t have surgery, then I can still go to Africa.”

“No, at this point you should not travel outside the US. Even if this works and we release you before your flight, the possibility of relapse is too high. If you relapse, you will need serious emergency surgery to remove part of your bowel, that’s not something you want done overseas. No, you should not go to Africa no matter what. This could be life threatening if you don’t get proper treatment quickly.”

Hm, we’ll see about that. I clung to hope like a drowning person clutches the flotsam of the wreckage that was once a nice little boat trip. I wasn’t ready to let go of this dream, not yet.

I spent the night in the hospital, hooked up to tubes and Iv’s and monitored by some pretty fabulous nurses. I must say, the hospital here in Frisco has phenomenal staff. Everyone has been simply amazing, kind, funny, attentive, and wickedly skilled. I could not ask for better care.

So, the antibiotics are working…slowly. And just as slowly I have let go of Africa, for now. The potential of surgery still looms as the pain lingers in my gut. The risk is too high and the consequences too dire. Kilimanjaro has been sitting there in all her majesty for thousands of years, she’s not going anywhere.

I will see Africa…someday.

Just not this summer.

So, I guess I need to decide what I am doing this summer instead. As long as I don’t leave the country, I am free to roam once they release me. I figure I should be sure to stay close to places with good ER’s just in case.

Right now, I have a ton of paperwork to fill out for the trip insurance. Thank goodness I have it!